"Wisht I had some money," muttered McGlory. "I'll get a letter from Tucson in a day or two, and I reckon it'll have a wad of dinero in it for me. Lend me enough to buy that boat, Matt, and I'll fork over as soon as I make the raise."
"I'd be glad to lend you money, Joe, for anything but that," answered Matt. "You don't need the Sprite any more than I do, so, if I don't lend you any funds you can't buy the boat."
"That's just like a hired man, Matt, and not like a real pard," mumbled McGlory. "But you're doing the right thing, at that."
"Me allee same Ping Pong," piped up the Celestial, picking up the slack of his kimono and wringing the water out of it. "Ah Choo makee lun launly, fire Ping Pong, you savvy? Whoosh! My no gottee job allee mo'."
"That's rough," commiserated the cowboy, with a wink in Matt's direction. "Little Ping Pong here worked for Ah Choo, and the old sneeze pulled the pin on him. What was that for, Ping?"
"My takee ticket flom 'Melican man fol washee-washee," explained the China boy. "Ah Choo no likee; him tellee Ping Pong makee skip, nevel come back allee mo'."
"Listen to that!" went on McGlory. "A flat-faced swatty owin' Ah Choo a dollar for the week's wash, blows into the laundry emporium and trades a ticket on the raffle with Ping Pong here for the amount of his debt. When Ah Choo hears the particulars, he ditches Ping. Ping comes over to Tiburon, wins the boat, and tries to make it do a handspring over a clump of piles. Between you and me, Matt, we pull him out of the briny and save the boat, and here he is, worryin' because he's out of a job and never thinking about the eighty-five pesos that are bound to drop into his yellow palms!"
"China boy workee fo' you," chirped Ping Pong, reaching out to grab Matt's hand. "You takee boat, givee Ping Pong job."
"There's your chance," grinned McGlory. "Take on the chink, Matt, and you corral the boat. It's no rhinecaboo he's running in, either. He means every word of it."
Matt's eyes wandered in the direction of the ferry house.